{"collection":"scripture-revelation","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_16088/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_16088","id":"gutenberg_16088","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/16088","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Biographies","Category: History - American","Category: History - Warfare","Category: Religion/Spirituality","Draft","Society of Friends"],"text":"Produced by Mark C. Orton, Melissa Er-Raqabi and the Online\nDistributed Proofreading\n\n\n\n\n\nTHE RECORD OF A\nQUAKER CONSCIENCE\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration: Macmillan Logo]\n\nTHE MACMILLAN COMPANY\n\nNEW YORK . BOSTON . CHICAGO . DALLAS\nATLANTA . SAN FRANCISCO\n\n\nMACMILLAN & CO., Limited\n\nLONDON . BOMBAY . CALCUTTA\nMELBOURNE\n\n\nTHE MACMILLAN CO. OF CANADA, Ltd.\nTORONTO\n\n\n\n\nTHE RECORD OF A\nQUAKER CONSCIENCE\n\n\nCYRUS PRINGLE'S DIARY\n\n\nWITH AN INTRODUCTION BY\nRUFUS M. JONES\n\n\nNew York\n\nTHE MACMILLAN COMPANY\n\n1918\n\n_All rights reserved_\n\n\n\n\nCopyright, 1913\nBY THE ATLANTIC MONTHLY COMPANY\n\n\nCopyright, 1918\nBy THE MACMILLAN COMPANY\n\nSet up and printed. Published, February, 1918\n\n\n[Transcriber's Note:\n\nSeveral unusual spellings have been kept as in the original, including:\nnorthermost (\"Fairhope meeting-house is in the northermost country\") and\ncomformable (\"yet probably in a manner comformable to\").\n\nIn some cases, variant spellings of the same word are used, as in the\ncase of \"enrolment\" and \"enrollment\", \"therefor\" and \"therefore\", \"well\nmeant\" and \"well-meant\". These have been comfirmed with the original.\n\nIn referring to God, there is also inconsistency in the use of \"His\"\nversus \"his\" and \"Him\" versus \"him\".]\n\n\n\n\nINTRODUCTION\n\n\nThe body of this little book consists of the personal diary of a young\nQuaker named Cyrus Guernsey Pringle of Charlotte, Vermont. He was\ndrafted for service in the Union Army, July 13th, 1863. Under the\nexisting draft law a person who had religious scruples against engaging\nin war was given the privilege of paying a commutation fine of three\nhundred dollars. This commutation money Pringle's conscience would not\nallow him to pay. A prosperous uncle proposed to pay it surreptitiously\nfor him, but the honest-minded youth discovered the plan and refused to\naccept the well meant kindness, since he believed, no doubt rightly,\nthat this money would be used to pay for an army substitute in his\nplace. The Diary relates in simple, naive style the experiences which\nbefell the narrator as he followed his hard path of duty, and\nincidentally it reveals a fine and sensitive type of character, not\nunlike that which comes so beautifully to light in the Journal of John\nWoolman.\n\nThis is plainly not the psychological moment to study the highly complex\nand delicate problem of conscience. The strain and tension of world\nissues disturb our judgment. We cannot if we would turn away from the\nevents and movements that affect the destiny of nations to dwell calmly\nand securely upon our own inner, private actions. It is never easy, even\nwhen the world is most normal and peaceful, to mark off with sharp lines\nthe area of individual freedom. No person ever lives unto himself or is\nsufficient to himself. He is inextricably woven into the tissue of the\nsocial group. His privileges, his responsibilities, his obligations are\nforever over-individual and come from beyond his narrow isolated life.\nIf he is to be a rational being at all he must _relate_ his life to\nothers and share in some measure their triumphs and their tragedies.\n\nBut at the same time the most precious thing in the universe is that\nmysterious thing we call individual liberty and which even God himself\nguards and respects. Up to some point, difficult certainly to delimit, a\nman must be captain of his soul. He cannot be a _person_ if he does not\nhave a sphere of power over his own act. To treat him as a puppet of\nexternal forces, or a mere cog in a vast social mechanism, is to wipe\nout the unique distinction between person and thing. Somewhere the free\nspirit must take its stand and claim its God-given distinction. If life\nis to be at all worth while there must be some boundary within which the\nsoul holds its own august and ultimate tribunal. That Sanctuary domain\nwithin the soul the Quakers, ever since their origin in the period of\nthe English Commonwealth, have always guarded as the most sacred\npossession a man can have.\n\nNo grave difficulty, at least in the modern world, is involved in this\nfaith, until it suddenly comes into conflict with the urgent\nrequirements of social efficiency. When the social group is fused with\nemotion and moves almost as an undivided unit toward some end, then the\nclaim of a right, on the ground of conscience, for the individual to\ndeviate from the group and to pursue another or an opposite course\nappears serious if not positively insufferable. The abstract principle\nof individual liberty all modern persons grant; the strain comes when\nsome one proposes to insist upon a concrete instance of it which\ninvolves implications that may endanger the ends which the intensified\ngroup is pursuing. A situation of this type confronts the Quakers\nwhenever their country engages in war, since as a people they feel that\nthey cannot fight or take any part in military operations.\n\nThey do not find it an easy thing to give a completely rational ground\nfor their opposition to war. Nor, as a matter of fact, is it any more\neasy for the militarist to rationalize his method of solving world\ndifficulties. Both are evidently actuated by instinctive forces which\nlie far beneath the level of pure reason.\n\nThe roots of the Quakers' opposition to war go deep down into the soil\nof the past. They are the outgrowth and culmination of a long spiritual\nmovement. They carry along, in their ideas, emotions, habits and\nattitudes, tendencies which have been unconsciously sucked in with their\nmother's milk, and which, therefore, cannot be held up and analysed.\nThe mystics, the humanists, the anabaptists, the spiritual reformers,\nare forerunners of the Quaker. They are a necessary part of his\npedigree,--and they were all profoundly opposed to war. This attitude\nhas become an integral part of the vital stock of truth by which the\nQuaker lives his spiritual life, and to violate it is for him to stop\nliving \"the way of truth,\" as the early Quakers quaintly called their\nreligious faith.\n\nBut the Quakers have never been champions of the negative. They do not\ntake kindly to the role of being \"antis.\" Their negations grow out of\ntheir insistent affirmations. If they are _against_ an established\ninstitution or custom it is because they are _for_ some other way of\nlife which seems to them divinely right, and their first obligation is\nto incarnate that way of life. They cannot, therefore, stand apart in\nmonastic seclusion and safely watch the swirl of forces which they\nsilently disapprove. If in war-time they do not fight, they _do_\nsomething else. They accept and face the dangers incident to their way\nof life. They feel a compulsion to take up and in some measure to bear\nthe burden of the world's suffering. They endeavour to exhibit, humbly\nand modestly, the power of sacrificial love, freely, joyously given, and\nthey venture all that the brave can venture to carry their faith into\nlife and action. In the American civil war, in the Franco-Prussian, the\nSouth African, the Balkan, the Russo-Japanese, small bands of Quakers\nrevealed the same spirit of service and the same obliviousness to danger\nwhich have marked the larger groups that have manned the ambulance units\nand the war-victims' relief and reconstruction work of this world war.\nIn this present crisis they have gone wherever they could go,--to\nBelgium, to France, to Russia, to Italy, to Serbia and Greece and Syria\nand Mesopotamia,--to carry into operation the forces of restoration and\nof reconstruction. They have not stood aloof as spectators of the\nworld's tragedy. They have entered into it and shared it, and they have\ncounted neither money nor life dear to themselves in their desire to\nreveal the power of redeeming and transforming love.\n\nSlowly the sincerity of the Quaker conviction about war has made itself\nfelt and limited legislative provisions have been made, especially in\nEngland and America, to meet the claims of conscience. The problem which\nconfronts the law-maker, even when he is sympathetic with the rights of\nconviction, is the grave difficulty of determining where to draw the\nline of special exception to general requirements and how to discover\nthe sincerity of conscientious objection to war. The \"slacker\" is\nalways a stern possibility. There must be no holes in the net for him to\nescape through. The makers of armies naturally want every man who can be\nspared from civilian life and can be utilized for military operations.\nIt has consequently often seemed necessary for law-makers to be narrow\nand hard toward the obviously sincere for fear of being too easy and\nlenient with those suspected of having sham consciences.\n\nDuring the Civil War in America, President Lincoln, eager as he was to\nwin the war, was always deeply in sympathy with the Quakers, and he\nstretched his administrative powers to their full limit to provide\nrelief for conscientious convictions. In the early stages of the great\nconflict the President wrote the following kindly note in answer to a\nmessage from New England Yearly Meeting of the Society of Friends:\n\"Engaged as I am, in a great war, I fear it will be difficult for the\nworld to understand how fully I appreciate the principles of peace\ninculcated in this letter [of yours] and every where by the Society of\nFriends.\"[1] Both he and Secretary Stanton made many positive efforts to\nfind some way of providing for the tender consciences of Friends without\nbeing unfair to the rights of others. They even requested American\nFriends to call a conference to consider how to find a satisfactory\nsolution of the problem. Such a conference was held in Baltimore,\nDecember 7th, 1863, and the Friends there assembled expressed great\nappreciation of \"the kindness evinced at all times by the President and\nSecretary of War.\" A delegation from this conference visited Washington\nand, in co-operation with Secretary Stanton, succeeded in securing a\nclause in the enrolment bill, declaring Friends to be non-combatants,\nassigning all drafted Friends to hospital service or work among\nfreedmen, and further providing for the entire exemption of Friends from\nmilitary service on the payment of $300 into a fund for the relief of\nsick and wounded.[2]\n\nOn several occasions Friends in larger or smaller groups went to\nWashington for times of prayer and spiritual communion with the great\nPresident. These times were deeply appreciated by the heavily burdened\nman. Tears ran down his cheeks, we are told, as he sat bowed in solemn\nsilence or knelt as some moved Friend prayed for him to Almighty God.\nWriting of the visit of Isaac and Sarah Harvey of Clinton County, Ohio,\nin the autumn of 1862, Lincoln tenderly said: \"May the Lord comfort them\nas they have sustained me.\" A letter written by the President in 1862 to\nEliza P. Gurney, one of a small group of Friends who visited him and\nprayed with him in the autumn of that year, reveals forcibly how he\nregarded these occasions:\n\n     \"I am glad of this interview, and glad to know that I have your\n     sympathy and prayers. We are indeed going through a great trial--a\n     fiery trial. In the very responsible position in which I happen to\n     be placed, being a humble instrument in the hands of our Heavenly\n     Father, as I am, and as we all are, to work out his great purposes,\n     I have desired that all my works and acts may be according to his\n     will, and that it might be so, I have sought his aid; but if, after\n     endeavouring to do my best in the light which he affords me, I find\n     my efforts fail, I must believe that for some purpose unknown to\n     me, his will is otherwise. If I had had my way, this war would\n     never have been commenced. If I had been allowed my way, this war\n     would have been ended before this; but we find it still continues,\n     and we must believe that he permits it for some wise purpose of\n     his own, mysterious and unknown to us; and though with our limited\n     understandings we may not be able to comprehend it, yet we cannot\n     but believe that he who made the world still governs it.\"\n\nSomewhat later President Lincoln wrote again to Eliza P. Gurney\nrequesting her to exercise her freedom to write to him as he felt the\nneed of spiritual help and reinforcement. Her letter of reply so closely\ntouched him and spoke to his condition that he carried it about with him\nand it was found in his coat pocket at the time of his death, twenty\nmonths after it was written. In the autumn of 1864, President Lincoln,\nstill impressed by the message which he had received, wrote a memorable\nletter to Eliza P. Gurney. It was as follows:\n\n     \"I have not forgotten--probably never shall forget--the very\n     impressive occasion when yourself and friends visited me on a\n     Sabbath forenoon two years ago. Nor has your kind letter, written\n     nearly a year later, ever been forgotten. In all it has been your\n     purpose to strengthen my reliance on God. I am much indebted to the\n     good Christian people of the country for their constant prayers and\n     consolations; and to no one of them more than to yourself. The\n     purposes of the Almighty are perfect, and must prevail, though we\n     erring mortals may fail to accurately perceive them in advance. We\n     hoped for a happy termination of this terrible war long before\n     this; but God knows best, and has ruled otherwise. We shall yet\n     acknowledge his wisdom, and our own error therein. Meanwhile we\n     must work earnestly in the best lights he gives us, trusting that\n     so working still conduces to the great ends he ordains. Surely he\n     intends some great good to follow this mighty convulsion, which no\n     mortal could make, and no mortal could stay. Your people, the\n     Friends, have had, and are having, a very great trial. On principle\n     and faith opposed to both war and oppression, they can only\n     practically oppose oppression by war. In this dilemma some have\n     chosen one horn and some the other. For those appealing to me on\n     conscientious grounds, I have done, and shall do, the best I could\n     and can, in my own conscience, under my oath to the law. That you\n     believe this I doubt not; and, believing it, I shall still receive\n     for our country and myself your earnest prayers to our Father in\n     heaven.\"\n\nIt is, then, not surprising that President Lincoln was \"moved with\nsympathy\" when he heard the story of Pringle's suffering for conscience,\nor that he quietly said to the Secretary of War, \"It is my urgent wish\nthat this Friend be released.\"\n\nRUFUS M. JONES.\n\nHaverford, Pa.,\nDecember, 1917.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[1] Nicolay and Hay: \"Abraham Lincoln,\" Vol. VI, p. 328.\n\n[2] Secretary Stanton endeavoured to provide that this commutation money\nshould be made into a fund for the care of freedmen. This suggestion\nwas, however, not adopted by Congress.\n\n\n\n\nTHE RECORD OF A QUAKER CONSCIENCE\n\n\nAt Burlington, Vt., on the 13th of the seventh month, 1863, I was\ndrafted. Pleasant are my recollections of the 14th. Much of that rainy\nday I spent in my chamber, as yet unaware of my fate; in writing and\nreading and in reflecting to compose my mind for any event. The day and\nthe exercise, by the blessing of the Father, brought me precious\nreconciliation to the will of Providence.\n\nWith ardent zeal for our Faith and the cause of our peaceable\nprinciples; and almost disgusted at the lukewarmness and unfaithfulness\nof very many who profess these; and considering how heavily slight\ncrosses bore upon their shoulders, I felt to say, \"Here am I, Father,\nfor thy service. As thou will.\" May I trust it was He who called me and\nsent me forth with the consolation: \"My grace is sufficient for thee.\"\nDeeply have I felt many times since that I am nothing without the\ncompanionship of the Spirit.\n\nI was to report on the 27th. Then, loyal to our country, Wm. Lindley\nDean and I appeared before the Provost Marshal with a statement of our\ncases. We were ordered for a hearing on the 29th. On the afternoon of\nthat day W.L.D. was rejected upon examination of the Surgeon, but my\ncase not coming up, he remained with me,--much to my strength and\ncomfort. Sweet was his converse and long to be remembered, as we lay\ntogether that warm summer night on the straw of the barracks. By his\nencouragement much was my mind strengthened; my desires for a pure life,\nand my resolutions for good. In him and those of whom he spoke I saw\nthe abstract beauty of Quakerism. On the next morning came Joshua M.\nDean to support me and plead my case before the Board of Enrollment. On\nthe day after, the 31st, I came before the Board. Respectfully those men\nlistened to the exposition of our principles; and, on our representing\nthat we looked for some relief from the President, the marshal released\nme for twenty days. Meanwhile appeared Lindley M. Macomber and was\nlikewise, by the kindness of the marshal, though they had received\ninstructions from the Provost Marshal General to show such claims no\npartiality, released to appear on the 20th day of the eighth month.\n\nAll these days we were urged by our acquaintances to pay our commutation\nmoney; by some through well-meant kindness and sympathy; by others\nthrough interest in the war; and by others still through a belief they\nentertained it was our duty. But we confess a higher duty than that to\ncountry; and, asking no military protection of our Government and\ngrateful for none, deny any obligation to support so unlawful a system,\nas we hold a war to be even when waged in opposition to an evil and\noppressive power and ostensibly in defence of liberty, virtue, and free\ninstitutions; and, though touched by the kind interest of friends, we\ncould not relieve their distress by a means we held even more sinful\nthan that of serving ourselves, as by supplying money to hire a\nsubstitute we would not only be responsible for the result, but be the\nagents in bringing others into evil. So looking to our Father alone for\nhelp, and remembering that \"Whoso loseth his life for my sake shall find\nit; but whoso saveth it shall lose it,\" we presented ourselves again\nbefore the Board, as we had promised to do when released. Being offered\nfour days more of time, we accepted it as affording opportunity to\nvisit our friends; and moreover as there would be more probability of\nmeeting Peter Dakin at Rutland.\n\nSweet was the comfort and sympathy of our friends as we visited them.\nThere was a deep comfort, as we left them, in the thought that so many\npure and pious people follow us with their love and prayers. Appearing\nfinally before the marshal on the 24th, suits and uniforms were selected\nfor us, and we were called upon to give receipts for them. L.M.M. was on\nhis guard, and, being first called upon, declared he could not do so, as\nthat would imply acceptance. Failing to come to any agreement, the\nmatter was postponed till next morning, when we certified to the fact\nthat the articles were \"with us.\" Here I must make record of the\nkindness of the marshal, Rolla Gleason, who treated us with respect and\nkindness. He had spoken with respect of our Society; had given me\nfurloughs to the amount of twenty-four days, when the marshal at Rutland\nconsidered himself restricted by his oath and duty to six days; and here\nappeared in person to prevent any harsh treatment of us by his\nsergeants; and though much against his inclinations, assisted in putting\non the uniform with his own hands. We bade him farewell with grateful\nfeelings and expressions of fear that we should not fall into as tender\nhands again; and amid the rain in the early morning, as the town clock\ntolled the hour of seven, we were driven amongst the flock that was\ngoing forth to the slaughter, down the street and into the cars for\nBrattleboro. Dark was the day with murk and cloud and rain; and, as we\nrolled down through the narrow vales of eastern Vermont, somewhat of the\nshadow crept into our hearts and filled them with dark apprehensions of\nevil fortune ahead; of long, hopeless trials; of abuse from inferior\nofficers; of contempt from common soldiers; of patient endurance (or an\nattempt at this), unto an end seen only by the eye of a strong faith.\n\nHerded into a car by ourselves, we conscripts, substitutes, and the\nrest, through the greater part of the day, swept over the fertile\nmeadows along the banks of the White River and the Connecticut, through\npleasant scenes that had little of delight for us. At Woodstock we were\njoined by the conscripts from the 1st District,--altogether an inferior\ncompany from those before with us, who were honest yeomen from the\nnorthern and mountainous towns, while these were many of them\nsubstitutes from the cities.\n\nAt Brattleboro we were marched up to the camp; our knapsacks and persons\nsearched; and any articles of citizen's dress taken from us; and then\nshut up in a rough board building under a guard. Here the prospect was\ndreary, and I felt some lack of confidence in our Father's arm, though\nbut two days before I wrote to my dear friend, E.M.H.,--\n\n    I go tomorrow where the din\n    Of war is in the sulphurous air.\n    I go the Prince of Peace to serve,\n    His cross of suffering to bear.\n\n\nBrattleboro, _26th_, _8th_ month, 1863.--Twenty-five or thirty caged\nlions roam lazily to and fro through this building hour after hour\nthrough the day. On every side without, sentries pace their slow beat,\nbearing loaded muskets. Men are ranging through the grounds or hanging\nin synods about the doors of the different buildings, apparently without\na purpose. Aimless is military life, except betimes its aim is deadly.\nIdle life blends with violent death-struggles till the man is unmade a\nman; and henceforth there is little of manhood about him. Of a man he is\nmade a soldier, which is a man-destroying machine in two senses,--a\nthing for the prosecuting or repelling an invasion like the block of\nstone in the fortress or the plate of iron on the side of the Monitor.\nThey are alike. I have tried in vain to define a difference, and I see\nonly this. The iron-clad with its gun is the bigger soldier: the more\nformidable in attack, the less liable to destruction in a given time;\nthe block the most capable of resistance; both are equally obedient to\nofficers. Or the more perfect is the soldier, the more nearly he\napproaches these in this respect.\n\nThree times a day we are marched out to the mess houses for our rations.\nIn our hands we carry a tin plate, whereon we bring back a piece of\nbread (sour and tough most likely), and a cup. Morning and noon a piece\nof meat, antique betimes, bears company with the bread. They who wish it\nreceive in their cups two sorts of decoctions: in the morning burnt\nbread, or peas perhaps, steeped in water with some saccharine substance\nadded (I dare not affirm it to be sugar). At night steeped tea extended\nby some other herbs probably and its pungency and acridity assuaged by\nthe saccharine principle aforementioned. On this we have so far\nsubsisted and, save some nauseating, comfortably. As we go out and\nreturn, on right and left and in front and rear go bayonets. Some\nsubstitutes heretofore have escaped and we are not to be neglected in\nour attendants. Hard beds are healthy, but I query cannot the result be\ndefeated by the _degree_? Our mattresses are boards. Only the slight\nelasticity of our thin blankets breaks the fall of our flesh and bones\nthereon. Oh! now I praise the discipline I have received from uncarpeted\nfloors through warm summer nights of my boyhood.\n\nThe building resounds with petty talk; jokes and laughter and swearing.\nSomething more than that. Many of the caged lions are engaged with\ncards, and money changes hands freely. Some of the caged lions read, and\nsome sleep, and so the weary day goes by.\n\nL.M.M. and I addressed the following letter to Governor Holbrook and\nhired a corporal to forward it to him.\n\nBRATTLEBORO, VT., _26th_, _8th_ month, 1863.\nFREDERICK HOLBROOK,\nGovernor of Vermont:--\n\nWe, the undersigned members of the Society of Friends, beg leave to\nrepresent to thee, that we were lately drafted in the 3d Dist. of\nVermont, have been forced into the army and reached the camp near this\ntown yesterday.\n\nThat in the language of the elders of our New York Yearly Meeting, \"We\nlove our country and acknowledge with gratitude to our Heavenly Father\nthe many blessings we have been favoured with under the government; and\ncan feel no sympathy with any who seek its overthrow.\"\n\nBut that, true to well-known principles of our Society, we cannot\nviolate our religious convictions either by complying with military\nrequisitions or by the equivalents of this compliance,--the furnishing\nof a substitute or payment of commutation money. That, therefore, we are\nbrought into suffering and exposed to insult and contempt from those who\nhave us in charge, as well as to the penalties of insubordination,\nthough liberty of conscience is granted us by the Constitution of\nVermont as well as that of the United States.\n\nTherefore, we beg of thee as Governor of our State any assistance thou\nmay be able to render, should it be no more than the influence of thy\nposition interceding in our behalf.\n\nTruly Thy Friend,\nCYRUS G. PRINGLE.\n\nP.S.--We are informed we are to be sent to the vicinity of Boston\ntomorrow.\n\n_27th._--On board train to Boston. The long afternoon of yesterday\npassed slowly away. This morning passed by,--the time of our stay in\nBrattleboro, and we neither saw nor heard anything of our Governor. We\nsuppose he could not or would not help us. So as we go down to our trial\nwe have no arm to lean upon among all men; but why dost thou complain,\noh, my Soul? Seek thou that faith that will prove a buckler to thy\nbreast, and gain for thee the protection of an arm mightier than the\narms of all men.\n\n_28th._ CAMP VERMONT: LONG ISLAND, BOSTON HARBOUR.--In the early morning\ndamp and cool we marched down off the heights of Brattleboro to take\ntrain for this place. Once in the car the dashing young cavalry officer,\nwho had us in charge, gave notice he had placed men through the cars,\nwith loaded revolvers, who had orders to shoot any person attempting to\nescape, or jump from the window, and that any one would be shot if he\neven put his head out of the window. Down the beautiful valley of the\nConnecticut, all through its broad intervales, heavy with its crops of\ncorn or tobacco, or shaven smooth by the summer harvest; over the hard\nand stony counties of northern Massachusetts, through its suburbs and\nunder the shadow of Bunker Hill Monument we came into the City of\nBoston, \"the Hub of the Universe.\" Out through street after street we\nwere marched double guarded to the wharves, where we took a small\nsteamer for the island some six miles out in the harbour. A circumstance\nconnected with this march is worth mentioning for its singularity: at\nthe head of this company, like convicts (and feeling very much like\nsuch), through the City of Boston walked, with heavy hearts and\ndown-cast eyes, two Quakers.\n\nHere on this dry and pleasant island in the midst of the beautiful\nMassachusetts Bay, we have the liberty of the camp, the privilege of air\nand sunshine and hay beds to sleep upon. So we went to bed last night\nwith somewhat of gladness elevating our depressed spirits.\n\nHere are many troops gathering daily from all the New England States\nexcept Connecticut and Rhode Island. Their white tents are dotting the\ngreen slopes and hilltops of the island and spreading wider and wider.\nThis is the flow of military tide here just now. The ebb went out to sea\nin the shape of a great shipload just as we came in, and another load\nwill be sent before many days. All is war here. We are surrounded by the\npomp and circumstance of war, and enveloped in the cloud thereof. The\ncloud settles down over the minds and souls of all; they cannot see\nbeyond, nor do they try; but with the clearer eye of Christian faith I\ntry to look beyond all this error unto Truth and Holiness immaculate:\nand thanks to our Father, I am favoured with glimpses that are sweet\nconsolation amid this darkness.\n\nThis is one gratification: the men with us give us their sympathy. They\nseem to look upon us tenderly and pitifully, and their expressions of\nkind wishes are warm. Although we are relieved from duty and from drill,\nand may lie in our tents during rain and at night, we have heard of no\ncomplaint. This is the more worthy of note as there are so few in our\nlittle (Vermont) camp. Each man comes on guard half the days. It would\nprobably be otherwise were their hearts in the service; but I have yet\nto find the man in any of these camps or at any service who does not\nwish himself at home. Substitutes say if they knew all they know now\nbefore leaving home they would not have enlisted; and they have been but\na week from their homes and have endured no hardships. Yesterday L.M.M.\nand I appeared before the Captain commanding this camp with a statement\nof our cases. He listened to us respectfully and promised to refer us to\nthe General commanding here, General Devens; and in the meantime\nreleased us from duty. In a short time afterward he passed us in our\ntent, asking our names. We have not heard from him, but do not drill or\nstand guard; so, we suppose, his release was confirmed. At that\ninterview a young lieutenant sneeringly told us he thought we had better\nthrow away our scruples and fight in the service of the country; and as\nwe told the Captain we could not accept pay, he laughed mockingly, and\nsaid he would not stay here for $13.00 per month. He gets more than a\nhundred, I suppose.\n\nHow beautiful seems the world on this glorious morning here by the\nseaside! Eastward and toward the sun, fair green isles with outlines of\npure beauty are scattered over the blue bay. Along the far line of the\nmainland white hamlets and towns glisten in the morning sun; countless\ntiny waves dance in the wind that comes off shore and sparkle sunward\nlike myriads of gems. Up the fair vault, flecked by scarcely a cloud,\nrolls the sun in glory. Though fair be the earth, it has come to be\ntainted and marred by him who was meant to be its crowning glory. Behind\nme on this island are crowded vile and wicked men, the murmur of whose\nribaldry riseth continually like the smoke and fumes of a lower world.\nOh! Father of Mercies, forgive the hard heartlessness and blindness and\nscarlet sins of my fellows, my brothers.\n\n\nPRISON EXPERIENCES FOR CONSCIENCE' SAKE--OUR PRISON\n\n_31st._, _8th_ month, 1863. IN GUARD HOUSE.--Yesterday morning L.M.M.\nand I were called upon to do fatigue duty. The day before we were asked\nto do some cleaning about camp and to bring water. We wished to be\nobliging, to appear willing to bear a hand toward that which would\npromote our own and our fellows' health and convenience; but as we\nworked we did not feel easy. Suspecting we had been assigned to such\nwork, the more we discussed in our minds the subject, the more clearly\nthe right way seemed opened to us; and we separately came to the\njudgment that we must not conform to this requirement. So when the\nsergeant bade us \"Police the streets,\" we asked him if he had received\ninstructions with regard to us, and he replied we had been assigned to\n\"Fatigue Duty.\" L.M.M. answered him that we could not obey. He left us\nimmediately for the Major (Jarvis of Weathersfield, Vt.). He came back\nand ordered us to the Major's tent. The latter met us outside and\ninquired concerning the complaint he had heard of us. Upon our statement\nof our position, he apparently undertook to argue our whimsies, as he\nprobably looked upon our principles, out of our heads. We replied to his\npoints as we had ability; but he soon turned to bullying us rather than\narguing with us, and would hardly let us proceed with a whole sentence.\n\"I make some pretension to religion myself,\" he said; and quoted the Old\nTestament freely in support of war. Our terms were, submission or the\nguard-house. We replied we could not obey.\n\nThis island was formerly occupied by a company, who carried on the large\nfarm it comprises and opened a great hotel as a summer resort.\n\nThe subjects of all misdemeanours, grave and small, are here confined.\nThose who have deserted or attempted it; those who have insulted\nofficers and those guilty of theft, fighting, drunkenness, etc. In\n_most_, as in the camps, there are traces yet of manhood and of the\nDivine Spark, but some are abandoned, dissolute. There are many here\namong the substitutes who were actors in the late New York riots. They\nshow unmistakably the characteristics and sentiments of those rioters,\nand, especially, hatred to the blacks drafted and about camp, and\nexhibit this in foul and profane jeers heaped upon these unoffending men\nat every opportunity. In justice to the blacks I must say they are\nsuperior to the whites in all their behaviour.\n\n_31st._ P.M.--Several of us were a little time ago called out one by one\nto answer inquiries with regard to our offences. We replied we could not\ncomply with military requisitions. P.D., being last, was asked if he\nwould die first, and replied promptly but mildly, _Yes_.\n\nHere we are in prison in our own land for no crimes, no offence to God\nnor man; nay, more: we are here for obeying the commands of the Son of\nGod and the influences of his Holy Spirit. I must look for patience in\nthis dark day. I am troubled too much and excited and perplexed.\n\n_1st._, _9th_ month.--Oh, the horrors of the past night--I never before\nexperienced such _sensations_ and fears; and never did I feel so clearly\nthat I had nothing but the hand of our Father to shield me from evil.\nLast night we three lay down together on the floor of a lower room of\nwhich we had taken possession. The others were above. We had but one\nblanket between us and the floor, and one over us. The other one we had\nlent to a wretched deserter who had skulked into our room for _relief_,\nbeing without anything of his own. We had during the day gained the\nrespect of the fellows, and they seemed disposed to let us occupy our\nroom in peace. I cannot say in quiet, for these caged beasts are\nrestless, and the resonant boards of this old building speak of bedlam.\nThe thin board partitions, the light door fastened only by a pine stick\nthrust into a wooden loop on the casing, seemed small protection in case\nof assault; but we lay down to sleep in quiet trust. But we had scarcely\nfallen asleep before we were awakened by the demoniac howlings and\nyellings of a man just brought into the next room, and allowed the\nliberty of the whole house. He was drunk, and further seemed to be\nlabouring under delirium tremens. He crashed about furiously, and all\nthe more after the guard tramped heavily in and bound him with\nhandcuffs, and chain and ball. Again and again they left, only to return\nto quiet him by threats or by crushing him down to the floor and gagging\nhim. In a couple of hours he became quiet and we got considerable sleep.\n\nIn the morning the fellow came into our room apologizing for the\nintrusion. He appeared a smart, fine-looking young man, restless and\nuneasy. P.D. has a way of disposing of intruders that is quite\neffectual. I have not entirely disposed of some misgivings with respect\nto the legitimacy of his use of the means, so he commenced reading aloud\nin the Bible. The fellow was impatient and noisy, but he soon settled\ndown on the floor beside him. As he listened and talked with us the\nrecollections of his father's house and his innocent childhood were\nawakened. He was the child of pious parents, taught in Sabbath School\nand under pure home influences till thirteen. Then he was drawn into bad\ncompany, soon after leaving home for the sea; and, since then, has\nserved in the army and navy,--in the army in Wilson's and Hawkins's\n[brigades]. His was the old story of the total subjection of moral power\nand thralldom to evil habits and associates. He would get drunk,\nwhenever it was in his power. It was wrong; but he could not help it.\nThough he was awakened and recollected his parents looking long and in\nvain for his return, he soon returned to camp, to his wallowing in the\nmire, and I fear to his path to certain perdition.\n\n_3d._ [9th month.]--A Massachusetts major, the officer of the day, in\nhis inspection of the guard-house came into our room today. We were\nlying on the floor engaged in reading and writing. He was apparently\nsurprised at this and inquired the name of our books; and finding the\nBible and Thomas a Kempis's _Imitation of Christ_, observed that they\nwere good books. I cannot say if he knew we were Friends, but he asked\nus why we were in here.\n\nLike all officers he proceeded to reason with us, and to advise us to\nserve, presenting no comfort if we still persisted in our course. He\ninformed us of a young Friend, Edward W. Holway of Sandwich, Mass.,\nhaving been yesterday under punishment in the camp by his orders, who\nwas today doing service about camp. He said he was not going to put his\nQuaker in the guard-house, but was going to bring him to work by\npunishment. We were filled with deep sympathy for him and desired to\ncheer him by kind words as well as by the knowledge of our similar\nsituation. We obtained permission of the Major to write to him a letter\nopen to his inspection. \"You may be sure,\" said E.W.H. to us at W., \"the\nMajor did not allow it to leave his hands.\"\n\nThis forenoon the Lieutenant of the Day came in and acted the same part,\nthough he was not so cool, and left expressing the hope, if we would not\nserve our country like men, that God would curse us. Oh, the trials from\nthese officers! One after another comes in to relieve himself upon us.\nFinding us firm and not lacking in words, they usually fly into a\npassion and end by bullying us. How can we reason with such men? They\nare utterly unable to comprehend the pure Christianity and spirituality\nof our principles. They have long stiffened their necks in their own\nstrength. They have stopped their ears to the voice of the Spirit, and\nhardened their hearts to his influences. They see no duty higher than\nthat to country. What shall we receive at their hands?\n\nThis Major tells us we will not be tried here. Then we are to be sent\ninto the field, and there who will deliver us but God? Ah, I have nursed\nin my heart a hope that I may be spared to return home. Must I cast it\nout and have no desire, but to do the will of my Master. It were better,\neven so. O, Lord, Thy will be done. Grant I may make it my chief delight\nand render true submission thereto.\n\nYesterday a little service was required of our dear L.M.M., but he\ninsisted he could not comply. A sergeant and two privates were engaged.\nThey coaxed and threatened him by turns, and with a determination not to\nbe baffled took him out to perform it. Though guns were loaded he still\nstood firm and was soon brought back. We are happy here in\nguard-house,--too happy, too much at ease. We should see more of the\nComforter,--feel more strength,--if the trial were fiercer; but this is\nwell. This is a trial of strength of patience.\n\n_6th._ [9th month.]--Yesterday we had officers again for visitors. Major\nJ.B. Gould, 13th Massachusetts, came in with the determination of\npersuading us to consent to be transferred to the hospital here, he\nbeing the Provost Marshal of the island and having the power to make the\ntransfer. He is different in being and bearing from those who have been\nhere before. His motives were apparently those of pure kindness, and his\ndemeanour was that of a gentleman. Though he talked with us more than an\nhour, he lost no part of his self-control or good humour. So by his\neloquence and kindness he made more impression upon us than any before.\nAs Congregationalist he well knew the courts of the temple, but the Holy\nof Holies he had never seen, and knew nothing of its secrets. He\nunderstood expediency; but is not the man to \"lay down his life for my\nsake.\" He is sincere and seems to think what Major Gould believes cannot\nbe far from right. After his attempt we remained as firm as ever. We\nmust expect all means will be tried upon us, and no less persuasion than\nthreats.\n\nAT THE HOSPITAL, _7th._ [9th month.]--Yesterday morning came to us Major\nGould again, informing us that he had come to take us out of that dirty\nplace, as he could not see such respectable men lying there, and was\ngoing to take us up to the hospital. We assured him we could not serve\nthere, and asked him if he would not bring us back when we had there\ndeclared our purpose. He would not reply directly; but brought us here\nand left us. When the surgeon knew our determination, he was for haling\nus back at once; what he wanted, he said, was willing men. We sat on\nthe sward without the hospital tents till nearly noon, for some one to\ntake us back; when we were ordered to move into the tents and quarters\nassigned us in the mess-room. The Major must have interposed,\ndemonstrating his kindness by his resolution that we should occupy and\nenjoy the pleasanter quarters of the hospital, certainly if serving; but\nnone the less so if we declined. Later in the day L.M.M. and P.D. were\nsitting without, when he passed them and, laughing heartily, declared\nthey were the strangest prisoners of war he ever saw. He stopped some\ntime to talk with them and when they came in they declared him a kind\nand honest man.\n\nIf we interpret aright his conduct, this dangerous trial is over, and we\nhave escaped the perplexities that his kindness and determination threw\nabout us.\n\n_13th._--Last night we received a letter from Henry Dickinson, stating\nthat the President, though sympathizing with those in our situation,\nfelt bound by the Conscription Act, and felt liberty, in view of his\noath to execute the laws, to do no more than detail us from active\nservice to hospital duty, or to the charge of the coloured refugees. For\nmore than a week have we lain here, refusing to engage in hospital\nservice; shall we retrace the steps of the past week? Or shall we go\nSouth as overseers of the blacks on the confiscated estates of the\nrebels, to act under military commanders and to report to such? What\nwould become of our testimony and our determination to preserve\nourselves clear of the guilt of this war?\n\nP.S. We have written back to Henry Dickinson that we cannot purchase\nlife at cost of peace of soul.\n\n_14th._--We have been exceeding sorrowful since receiving advice--as we\nmust call it--from H.D. to enter the hospital service or some similar\nsituation. We did not look for that from him. It is not what our Friends\nsent us out for; nor is it what we came for. We shall feel desolate and\ndreary in our position, unless supported and cheered by the words of\nthose who have at heart our best interests more than regard for our\npersonal welfare. We walk as we feel guided by Best Wisdom. Oh, may we\nrun and not err in the high path of Holiness.\n\n_16th._--Yesterday a son-in-law of N.B. of Lynn came to see us. He was\ngoing to get passes for one or two of the Lynn Friends, that they might\ncome over to see us today. He informed us that the sentiment of the\nFriends hereabouts was that we might enter the hospital without\ncompromising our principles; and he produced a letter from W.W. to S.B.\nto the same effect. W.W. expressed his opinion that we might do so\nwithout doing it in lieu of other service. How can we evade a fact?\nDoes not the government both demand and accept it as in lieu of other\nservice? Oh, the cruelest blow of all comes from our friends.\n\n_17th._--Although this trial was brought upon us by our friends, their\nintentions were well meant. Their regard for our personal welfare and\nsafety too much absorbs the zeal they should possess for the maintenance\nof the principle of the peaceableness of our Master's kingdom. An\nunfaithfulness to this through meekness and timidity seems\nmanifest,--too great a desire to avoid suffering at some sacrifice of\nprinciple, perhaps,--too little of placing of Faith and confidence upon\nthe Rock of Eternal Truth.\n\nOur friends at home, with W.D. at their head, support us; and yesterday,\nat the opportune moment, just as we were most distressed by the\nsolicitations of our visitors, kind and cheering words of Truth were\nsent us through dear C.M.P., whose love rushes out to us warm and living\nand just from an overflowing fountain.\n\nI must record another work of kind attention shown us by Major Gould.\nBefore we embarked, he came to us for a friendly visit. As we passed him\non our way to the wharf he bade us Farewell and expressed a hope we\nshould not have so hard a time as we feared. And after we were aboard\nthe steamer, as the result of his interference on our behalf, we must\nbelieve, we were singled out from the midst of the prisoners, among whom\nwe had been placed previous to coming aboard, and allowed the liberty of\nthe vessel. By this are we saved much suffering, as the other prisoners\nwere kept under close guard in a corner on the outside of the boat.\n\nFOREST CITY UP THE POTOMAC. _22nd._ [9th month.]--It was near noon,\nyesterday, when we turned in from sea between Cape Charles and Henry;\nand, running thence down across the mouth of Chesapeake Bay, alongside\nOld Point Comfort, dropped anchor off Fortress Monroe. The scene around\nus was one of beauty, though many of its adornments were the results and\nmeans of wrong. The sunshine was brighter, the verdure greener to our\neyes weary of the sea, and the calm was milder and more grateful that we\nhad so long tossed in the storm.\n\nThe anchor was soon drawn up again and the _Forest City_ steamed up the\nJames River toward Newport News, and turning to the left between the\nlow, pine-grown banks, passed Norfolk to leave the New Hampshire\ndetachment at Portsmouth.\n\nComing back to Fortress Monroe, some freight was landed; and in the calm\nclear light of the moon, we swung away from shore and dropping down the\nmouth of the river, rounded Old Point, and, going up the Chesapeake,\nentered the Potomac in the night-time.\n\nOFF SHORE, ALEXANDRIA. _23d._--Here we anchored last night after the\nmain detachment was landed, and the Vermont and Massachusetts men\nremained on board another night. We hear we are to go right to the\nfield, where active operations are going on. This seems hard. We have\nnot till now given up the hope that we were not to go out into Virginia\nwith the rest of the men, but were to be kept here at Washington.\nFierce, indeed, are our trials. I am not discouraged entirely; but I am\nweak from want of food which I can eat, and from sickness. I do not know\nhow I am going to live in such way, or get to the front.\n\nP.S. We have just landed; and I had the liberty to buy a pie of a woman\nhawking such things, that has strengthened me wonderfully.\n\nCAMP NEAR CULPEPER. _25th._--My distress is too great for words; but I\nmust overcome my disinclination to write, or this record will remain\nunfinished. So, with aching head and heart, I proceed.\n\nYesterday morning we were roused early for breakfast and for preparation\nfor starting. After marching out of the barracks, we were first taken to\nthe armory, where each man received a gun and its equipments and a piece\nof tent. We stood in line, waiting for our turn with apprehensions of\ncoming trouble. Though we had felt free to keep with those among whom we\nhad been placed, we could not consent to carry a gun, even though we did\nnot intend to use it; and, from our previous experience, we knew it\nwould go harder with us, if we took the first step in the wrong\ndirection, though it might seem an unimportant one, and an easy and not\nvery wrong way to avoid difficulty. So we felt decided we must decline\nreceiving the guns. In the hurry and bustle of equipping a detachment\nof soldiers, one attempting to explain a position and the grounds\ntherefor so peculiar as ours to junior, petty officers, possessing\nliberally the characteristics of these: pride, vanity, conceit, and an\narbitrary spirit, impatience, profanity, and contempt for holy things,\nmust needs find the opportunity a very unfavourable one.\n\nWe succeeded in giving these young officers a slight idea of what we\nwere; and endeavoured to answer their questions of why we did not pay\nour commutation, and avail ourselves of that provision made expressly\nfor such; of why we had come as far as that place, etc. We realized then\nthe unpleasant results of that practice, that had been employed with us\nby the successive officers into whose hands we had fallen,--of shirking\nany responsibility, and of passing us on to the next officer above.\n\nA council was soon holden to decide what to do with us. One proposed to\nplace us under arrest, a sentiment we rather hoped might prevail, as it\nmight prevent our being sent on to the front; but another, in some spite\nand impatience, insisted, as it was their duty to supply a gun to every\nman and forward him, that the guns should be put upon us, and we be made\nto carry them. Accordingly the equipment was buckled about us, and the\nstraps of the guns being loosened, they were thrust over our heads and\nhung upon our shoulders. In this way we were urged forward through the\nstreets of Alexandria; and, having been put upon a long train of dirt\ncars, were started for Culpeper. We came over a long stretch of\ndesolated and deserted country, through battlefields of previous\nsummers, and through many camps now lively with the work of this present\ncampaign. Seeing, for the first time, a country made dreary by the\nwar-blight, a country once adorned with groves and green pastures and\nmeadows and fields of waving grain, and happy with a thousand homes, now\nlaid with the ground, one realizes as he can in no other way something\nof the ruin that lies in the trail of a war. But upon these fields of\nVirginia, once so fair, there rests a two-fold blight, first that of\nslavery, now that of war. When one contrasts the face of this country\nwith the smiling hillsides and vales of New England, he sees stamped\nupon it in characters so marked, none but a blind man can fail to read,\nthe great irrefutable arguments against slavery and against war, too;\nand must be filled with loathing for these twin relics of barbarism, so\nawful in the potency of their consequences that they can change even the\nface of the country.\n\nThrough the heat of this long ride, we felt our total lack of water and\nthe meagreness of our supply of food. Our thirst became so oppressive\nas we were marched here from Culpeper, some four miles with scarcely a\nhalt to rest, under our heavy loads, and through the heat and deep dust\nof the road, that we drank water and dipped in the brooks we passed,\nthough it was discoloured with the soap the soldiers had used in\nwashing. The guns interfered with our walking, and, slipping down,\ndragged with painful weight upon our shoulders. Poor P.D. fell out from\nexhaustion and did not come in till we had been some little time at the\ncamp. We were taken to the 4th Vermont regiment and soon apportioned to\ncompanies. Though we waited upon the officer commanding the company in\nwhich we were placed, and endeavoured to explain our situation, we were\nrequired immediately after to be present at inspection of arms. We\ndeclined, but an attempt was made to force us to obedience, first, by\nthe officers of the company, then, by those of the regiment; but,\nfailing to exact obedience of us, we were ordered by the colonel to be\ntied, and, if we made outcry, to be gagged also, and to be kept so till\nhe gave orders for our release. After two or three hours we were\nrelieved and left under guard; lying down on the ground in the open air,\nand covering ourselves with our blankets, we soon fell asleep from\nexhaustion, and the fatigue of the day.\n\nThis morning the officers told us we must yield. We must obey and serve.\nWe were threatened great severities and even death. We seem perfectly at\nthe mercy of the military power, and, more, in the hands of the inferior\nofficers, who, from their being far removed from Washington, feel less\nrestraint from those Regulations of the Army, which are for the\nprotection of privates from personal abuse.\n\n_26th._ [_9th_ month.]--Yesterday my mind was much agitated: doubts and\nfears and forebodings seized me. I was alone, seeking a resting-place\nand finding none. It seemed as if God had forsaken me in this dark hour;\nand the Tempter whispered, that after all I might be only the victim of\na delusion. My prayers for faith and strength seemed all in vain.\n\nBut this morning I enjoy peace, and feel as though I could face\nanything. Though I am as a lamb in the shambles, yet do I cry, \"Thy will\nbe done,\" and can indeed say,--\n\n    Passive to His holy will\n    Trust I in my Master still\n    Even though he slay me.\n\nI mind me of the anxiety of our dear friends about home, and of their\nprayers for us.\n\nOh, praise be to the Lord for the peace and love and resignation that\nhas filled my soul today! Oh, the passing beauty of holiness! There is\na holy life that is above fear; it is a close communion with Christ. I\npray for this continually but am not free from the shadow and the\ntempter. There is ever present with us the thought that perhaps we shall\nserve the Lord the most effectually by our death, and desire, if that be\nthe service He requires of us, that we may be ready and resigned.\n\nREGIMENTAL HOSPITAL, 4th Vermont. _29th._ [_9th_ month.]--On the evening\nof the 26th the Colonel came to us apologizing for the roughness with\nwhich he treated us at first, which was, as he insisted, through\nignorance of our real character and position. He told us if we persisted\nin our course, death would probably follow; though at another time he\nconfessed to P.D. that this would only be the extreme sentence of\ncourt-martial.\n\nHe urged us to go into the hospital, stating that this course was\nadvised by Friends about New York. We were too well aware of such a fact\nto make any denial, though it was a subject of surprise to us that he\nshould be informed of it. He pleaded with us long and earnestly, urging\nus with many promises of indulgence and favour and attentions we found\nafterwards to be untrue. He gave us till the next morning to consider\nthe question and report our decision. In our discussion of the subject\namong ourselves, we were very much perplexed. If all his statements\nconcerning the ground taken by our Society were true, we seemed to be\nliable, if we persisted in the course which alone seemed to us to be in\naccordance with Truth, to be exposed to the charge of over-zeal and\nfanaticism even among our own brethren. Regarding the work to be done in\nhospital as one of mercy and benevolence, we asked if we had any right\nto refuse its performance; and questioned whether we could do more good\nby endeavouring to bear to the end a clear testimony against war, than\nby labouring by word and deed among the needy in the hospitals and\ncamps. We saw around us a rich field for usefulness in which there were\nscarce any labourers, and toward whose work our hands had often started\ninvoluntarily and unbidden. At last we consented to a trial, at least\ntill we could make inquiries concerning the Colonel's allegations, and\nask the counsel of our friends, reserving the privilege of returning to\nour former position.\n\nAt first a great load seemed rolled away from us; we rejoiced in the\nprospect of life again. But soon there prevailed a feeling of\ncondemnation, as though we had sold our Master. And that first day was\none of the bitterest I ever experienced. It was a time of stern conflict\nof soul. The voice that seemed to say, \"Follow me,\" as I sought\nguidance the night before, kept pleading with me, convincing of sin,\ntill I knew of a truth my feet had strayed from His path. The\nScriptures, which the day before I could scarcely open without finding\nwords of strength and comfort, seemed closed against me, till after a\nsevere struggle alone in the wood to which I had retired, I consented to\ngive up and retrace my steps in faith. But it was too late. L.M.M.\nwishing to make a fair, honest trial, we were brought here--P.D. being\nalready here unwell. We feel we are erring; but scarce anything is\nrequired of us and we wait to hear from Friends.\n\nOf these days of going down into sin, I wish to make little mention. I\nwould that my record of such degradation be brief. We wish to come to an\nunderstanding with our friends and the Society before we move, but it\ndoes not seem that we can repress the upheavings of Truth in our\nhearts. We are bruised by sin.\n\nIt is with pleasure I record we have just waited upon the Colonel with\nan explanation of our distress of mind, requesting him to proceed with\ncourt-martial. We were kindly and tenderly received. \"If you want a\ntrial I can give it to you,\" he answered. The brigade has just marched\nout to join with the division for inspection. After that we are to have\nattention to our case.\n\nP.M. There is particular cause for congratulation in the consideration\nthat we took this step this morning, when now we receive a letter from\nH.D. charging us to faithfulness.\n\nWhen lately I have seen dear L.M.M. in the thoroughness and patience of\nhis trial to perform service in hospital, his uneasiness and the\nintensity of his struggle as manifested by his silence and disposition\nto avoid the company of his friends, and seen him fail and declare to\nus, \"I cannot stay here,\" I have received a new proof, and to me a\nstrong one, because it is from the experimental knowledge of an honest\nman, that no Friend, who is really such, desiring to keep himself clear\nof complicity with this system of war and to bear a perfect testimony\nagainst it, can lawfully perform service in the hospitals of the Army in\nlieu of bearing arms.\n\n_10th_ mo., _3d._--Today dawned fair and our Camp is dry again. I was\nasked to clean the gun I brought, and declining, was tied some two hours\nupon the ground.\n\n_6th._ AT WASHINGTON.--At first, after being informed of our declining\nto serve in his hospital, Colonel Foster did not appear altered in his\nkind regard for us. But his spleen soon became evident. At the time we\nasked for a trial by court-martial, and it was his duty to place us\nunder arrest and proceed with the preferring of his charges against us.\nFor a while he seemed to hesitate and consult his inferior officers, and\namong them his Chaplain. The result of the conference was our being\nordered into our companies, that, separated, and with the force of the\nofficers of a company bearing upon us, we might the more likely be\nsubdued. Yet the Colonel assured L.M.M., interceding in my behalf, when\nthe lieutenant commanding my company threatened force upon me, that he\nshould not allow any personal injury. When we marched next day I was\ncompelled to bear a gun and equipments. My associates were more\nfortunate, for, being asked if they would carry their guns, declined and\nsaw no more trouble from them. The captain of the company in which P.D.\nwas placed told him he did not believe he was ugly about it, and that he\ncould only put him under arrest and prefer charges against him. He\naccordingly was taken under guard, where he lay till we left for here.\n\nThe next morning the men were busy in burnishing their arms. When I\nlooked toward the one I had borne, yellow with rust, I trembled in the\nweakness of the flesh at the trial I felt impending over me. Before the\nColonel was up I knocked at his tent, but was told he was asleep,\nthough, through the opening, I saw him lying gazing at me. Although I\nfelt I should gain no relief from him, I applied again soon after. He\nadmitted me and, lying on his bed, inquired with cold heartlessness what\nI wanted. I stated to him, that I could never consent to serve, and,\nbeing under the war-power, was resigned to suffer instead all the just\npenalties of the law. I begged of him release from the attempts by\nviolence to compel my obedience and service, and a trial, though likely\nto be made by those having no sympathy with me, yet probably in a\nmanner comformable to law.\n\nHe replied that he had shown us all the favour he should; that he had,\nnow, turned us over to the military power and was going to let that take\nits course; that is, henceforth we were to be at the mercy of the\ninferior officers, without appeal to law, justice, or mercy. He said he\nhad placed us in a pleasant position, against which we could have no\nreasonable objection, and that we had failed to perform our agreement.\nHe wished to deny that our consent was only temporary and conditional.\nHe declared, furthermore, his belief, that a man who would not fight for\nhis country did not deserve to live. I was glad to withdraw from his\npresence as soon as I could.\n\nI went back to my tent and lay down for a season of retirement,\nendeavouring to gain resignation to any event. I dreaded torture and\ndesired strength of flesh and spirit. My trial soon came. The lieutenant\ncalled me out, and pointing to the gun that lay near by, asked if I was\ngoing to clean it. I replied to him, that I could not comply with\nmilitary requisitions, and felt resigned to the consequences. \"I do not\nask about your feelings; I want to know if you are going to clean that\ngun?\" \"I cannot do it,\" was my answer. He went away, saying, \"Very\nwell,\" and I crawled into the tent again. Two sergeants soon called for\nme, and taking me a little aside, bid me lie down on my back, and\nstretching my limbs apart tied cords to my wrists and ankles and these\nto four stakes driven in the ground somewhat in the form of an X.\n\nI was very quiet in my mind as I lay there on the ground [soaked] with\nthe rain of the previous day, exposed to the heat of the sun, and\nsuffering keenly from the cords binding my wrists and straining my\nmuscles. And, if I dared the presumption, I should say that I caught a\nglimpse of heavenly pity. I wept, not so much from my own suffering as\nfrom sorrow that such things should be in our own country, where Justice\nand Freedom and Liberty of Conscience have been the annual boast of\nFourth-of-July orators so many years. It seemed that our forefathers in\nthe faith had wrought and suffered in vain, when the privileges they so\ndearly bought were so soon set aside. And I was sad, that one\nendeavouring to follow our dear Master should be so generally regarded\nas a despicable and stubborn culprit.\n\nAfter something like an hour had passed, the lieutenant came with his\norderly to ask me if I was ready to clean the gun. I replied to the\norderly asking the question, that it could but give me pain to be asked\nor required to do anything I believed wrong. He repeated it to the\nlieutenant just behind him, who advanced and addressed me. I was\nfavoured to improve the opportunity to say to him a few things I wished.\nHe said little; and, when I had finished, he withdrew with the others\nwho had gathered around. About the end of another hour his orderly came\nand released me.\n\nI arose and sat on the ground. I did not rise to go away. I had not\nwhere to go, nothing to do. As I sat there my heart swelled with joy\nfrom above. The consolation and sweet fruit of tribulation patiently\nendured. But I also grieved, that the world was so far gone astray, so\ncruel and blind. It seemed as if the gospel of Christ had never been\npreached upon earth, and the beautiful example of his life had been\nutterly lost sight of.\n\nSome of the men came about me, advising me to yield, and among them one\nof those who had tied me down, telling me what I had already suffered\nwas nothing to what I must yet suffer unless I yielded; that human flesh\ncould not endure what they would put upon me. I wondered if it could be\nthat they could force me to obedience by torture, and examined myself\nclosely to see if they had advanced as yet one step toward the\naccomplishment of their purposes. Though weaker in body, I believed I\nfound myself, through divine strength, as firm in my resolution to\nmaintain my allegiance to my Master.\n\nThe relaxation of my nerves and muscles after having been so tensely\nstrained left me that afternoon so weak that I could hardly walk or\nperform any mental exertion.\n\nI had not yet eaten the mean and scanty breakfast I had prepared, when I\nwas ordered to pack up my things and report myself at the lieutenant's\ntent. I was accustomed to such orders and complied, little moved.\n\nThe lieutenant received me politely with, \"Good-morning, Mr. Pringle,\"\nand desiring me to be seated, proceeded with the writing with which he\nwas engaged. I sat down in some wonderment and sought to be quiet and\nprepared for any event.\n\n\"You are ordered to report to Washington,\" said he; \"I do not know what\nit is for.\" I assured him that neither did I know. We were gathered\nbefore the Major's tent for preparation for departure. The regimental\nofficers were there manifesting surprise and chagrin; for they could not\nbut show both as they looked upon us, whom the day before they were\nthreatening to crush into submission, and attempting also to execute\ntheir threats that morning, standing out of their power and under orders\nfrom one superior to their Major Commanding E.M. As the bird uncaged,\nso were our hearts that morning. Short and uncertain at first were the\nflights of Hope. As the slave many times before us, leaving his yoke\nbehind him, turned from the plantations of Virginia and set his face\ntoward the far North, so we from out a grasp as close and as abundant in\nsuffering and severity, and from without the line of bayonets that had\nso many weeks surrounded us, turned our backs upon the camp of the 4th\nVermont and took our way over the turnpike that ran through the tented\nfields of Culpeper.\n\nAt the War Office we were soon admitted to an audience with the Adjutant\nGeneral, Colonel Townsend, whom we found to be a very fine man, mild and\nkind. He referred our cases to the Secretary of War, Stanton, by whom we\nwere ordered to report for service to Surgeon General Hammond. Here we\nmet Isaac Newton, Commissioner of Agriculture, waiting for our arrival,\nand James Austin of Nantucket, expecting his son, Charles L. Austin, and\nEdward W. Holway of Sandwich, Mass., conscripted Friends like ourselves,\nand ordered here from the 22nd Massachusetts.\n\nWe understand it is through the influence of Isaac Newton that Friends\nhave been able to approach the heads of Government in our behalf and to\nprevail with them to so great an extent. He explained to us the\ncircumstance in which we are placed. That the Secretary of War and\nPresident sympathized with Friends in their present suffering, and would\ngrant them full release, but that they felt themselves bound by their\noaths that they would execute the laws, to carry out to its full extent\nthe Conscription Act. That there appeared but one door of relief\nopen,--that was to parole us and allow us to go home, but subject to\ntheir call again ostensibly, though this they neither wished nor\nproposed to do. That the fact of Friends in the Army and refusing\nservice had attracted public attention so that it was not expedient to\nparole us at present. That, therefore, we were to be sent to one of the\nhospitals for a short time, where it was hoped and expressly requested\nthat we would consent to remain quiet and acquiesce, if possible, in\nwhatever might be required of us. That our work there would be quite\nfree from objection, being for the direct relief of the sick; and that\nthere we would release none for active service in the field, as the\nnurses were hired civilians.\n\nThese requirements being so much less objectionable than we had feared,\nwe felt relief, and consented to them. I.N. went with us himself to the\nSurgeon General's office, where he procured peculiar favours for us:\nthat we should be sent to a hospital in the city, where he could see us\noften; and that orders should be given that nothing should interfere\nwith our comfort, or our enjoyment of our consciences.\n\nThence we were sent to Medical Purveyor Abbot, who assigned us to the\nbest hospital in the city, the Douglas Hospital.\n\nThe next day after our coming here Isaac Newton and James Austin came to\nadd to our number E.W.H. and C.L.A., so now there are five of us instead\nof three. We are pleasantly situated in a room by ourselves in the upper\nor fourth story, and are enjoying our advantages of good quarters and\ntolerable food as no one can except he has been deprived of them.\n\n[_10th_ month] _8th._--Today we have a pass to go out to see the city.\n\n_9th._--We all went, thinking to do the whole city in a day, but before\nthe time of our passes expired, we were glad to drag ourselves back to\nthe rest and quiet of D.H. During the day we called upon our friend\nI.N. in the Patent Office. When he came to see us on the 7th, he stated\nhe had called upon the President that afternoon to request him to\nrelease us and let us go home to our friends. The President promised to\nconsider it over-night. Accordingly yesterday morning, as I.N. told us,\nhe waited upon him again. He found there a woman in the greatest\ndistress. Her son, only a boy of fifteen years and four months, having\nbeen enticed into the Army, had deserted and been sentenced to be shot\nthe next day. As the clerks were telling her, the President was in the\nWar Office and could not be seen, nor did they think he could attend to\nher case that day. I.N. found her almost wild with grief. \"Do not\ndespair, my good woman,\" said he, \"I guess the President can be seen\nafter a bit.\" He soon presented her case to the President, who exclaimed\nat once, \"That must not be, I must look into that case, before they\nshoot that boy\"; and telegraphed at once to have the order suspended.\n\nI.N. judged it was not a fit time to urge our case. We feel we can\nafford to wait, that a life may be saved. But we long for release. We do\nnot feel easy to remain here.\n\n_11th._--Today we attended meeting held in the house of a Friend, Asa\nArnold, living near here. There were but four persons beside ourselves.\nE.W.H. and C.L.A. showed their copy of the charges about to have been\npreferred against them in court-martial before they left their regiment,\nto a lawyer who attended the meeting. He laughed at the Specification of\nMutiny, declaring such a charge could not have been lawfully sustained\nagainst them.\n\nThe experiences of our new friends were similar to ours, except they\nfell among officers who usually showed them favour and rejoiced with\nthem in their release.\n\n_13th._--L.M.M. had quite an adventure yesterday. He being fireman with\nanother was in the furnace room among three or four others, when the\nofficer of the day, one of the surgeons, passed around on inspection.\n\"Stand up,\" he ordered them, wishing to be saluted. The others arose;\nbut by no means L. The order was repeated for his benefit, but he sat\nwith his cap on, telling the surgeon he had supposed he was excused from\nsuch things as he was one of the Friends. Thereat the officer flew at\nhim, exclaiming, he would take the Quaker out of him. He snatched off\nhis cap and seizing him by the collar tried to raise him to his feet;\nbut finding his strength insufficient and that L. was not to be\nfrightened, he changed his purpose in his wrath and calling for the\ncorporal of the guard had him taken to the guard-house. This was about\neleven A.M. and he lay there till about six P.M., when the surgeon in\ncharge, arriving home and hearing of it, ordered the officer of the day\nto go and take him out, telling him never to put another man into the\nguard-house while he was in charge here without consulting him. The\nmanner of his release was very satisfactory to us, and we waited for\nthis rather than effect it by our own efforts. We are all getting uneasy\nabout remaining here, and if our release do not come soon, we feel we\nmust intercede with the authorities, even if the alternative be\nimprisonment.\n\nThe privations I have endured since leaving home, the great tax upon my\nnervous strength, and my mind as well, since I have had charge of our\nextensive correspondence, are beginning to tell upon my health and I\nlong for rest.\n\n_20th._ We begin to feel we shall have to decline service as\nheretofore, unless our position is changed. I shall not say but we\nsubmit too much in not declining at once, but it has seemed most prudent\nat least to make suit with Government rather than provoke the hostility\nof their subalterns. We were ordered here with little understanding of\nthe true state of things as they really exist here; and were advised by\nFriends to come and make no objections, being assured it was but for a\nvery brief time and only a matter of form. It might not have been wrong;\nbut as we find we do too much fill the places of soldiers (L.M.M.'s\nfellow fireman has just left for the field, and I am to take his place,\nfor instance), and are clearly doing military service, we are\ncontinually oppressed by a sense of guilt, that makes our struggles\nearnest.\n\n_21st._--I.N. has not called yet; our situation is becoming almost\nintolerable. I query if patience is justified under the circumstances.\nMy distress of mind may be enhanced by my feeble condition of health,\nfor today I am confined to my bed, almost too weak to get downstairs.\nThis is owing to exposure after being heated over the furnaces.\n\n_26th._--Though a week has gone by, and my cold has left me, I find I am\nno better, and that I am reduced very low in strength and flesh by the\nsickness and pain I am experiencing. Yet I still persist in going below\nonce a day. The food I am able to get is not such as is proper.\n\n_11th_ mo., _5th._--I spend most of my time on my bed, much of it alone.\nAnd very precious to me is the nearness unto the Master I am favoured to\nattain to. Notwithstanding my situation and state, I am happy in the\nenjoyment of His consolations. Lately my confidence has been strong, and\nI think I begin to feel that our patience is soon to be rewarded with\nrelief; insomuch that a little while ago, when dear P.D. was almost\novercome with sorrow, I felt bold to comfort him with the assurance of\nmy belief, that it would not be long so. My mind is too weak to allow of\nmy reading much; and, though I enjoy the company of my companions a part\nof the time, especially in the evening, I am much alone; which affords\nme abundant time for meditation and waiting upon God. The fruits of this\nare sweet, and a recompense for affliction.\n\n_6th._--Last evening E.W.H. saw I.N. particularly on my behalf, I\nsuppose. He left at once for the President. This morning he called to\ninform us of his interview at the White House. The President was moved\nto sympathy in my behalf, when I.N. gave him a letter from one of our\nFriends in New York. After its perusal he exclaimed to our friend, \"I\nwant you to go and tell Stanton that it is my wish all those young men\nbe sent home at once.\" He was on his way to the Secretary this morning\nas he called.\n\nLater. I.N. has just called again informing us in joy that we are free.\nAt the War Office he was urging the Secretary to consent to our paroles,\nwhen the President entered. \"It is my urgent wish,\" said he. The\nSecretary yielded; the order was given, and we were released. What we\nhad waited for so many weeks was accomplished in a few moments by a\nProvidential ordering of circumstances.\n\n_7th._--I.N. came again last evening bringing our paroles. The\npreliminary arrangements are being made, and we are to start this\nafternoon for New York.\n\n_Note._ Rising from my sick-bed to undertake this journey, which lasted\nthrough the night, its fatigues overcame me, and upon my arrival in New\nYork I was seized with delirium from which I only recovered after many\nweeks, through the mercy and favour of Him, who in all this trial had\nbeen our guide and strength and comfort.\n\n\n\n\nTHE END\n\n\n\n\nPRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA\n\n\n\n\nThe following pages contain advertisements of a few of the Macmillan\nbooks on kindred subjects\n\n\n\n\nThe Heart of the Puritan\n\nBy ELIZABETH DEERING HANSCOM\n\n_$1.50_\n\nThe purpose of this volume is stated by the editor in these words: \"I\ndetermined to bring together in one place in a convenient compendium, as\nit were, some gleanings from many and dusty tomes, some fragments of\nreality, in the hope that from them might radiate for others, as for me,\nshafts of light to penetrate the past.\" The result is unique in the\nrevelation afforded in the Puritans' own words of their daily walk and\nconversation and of that inner temper which governed their public acts.\nThe range is from orders for clothes and directions for an Atlantic\nvoyage to the soul searchings of Cotton Mather and the spiritual\necstasies of Mrs. Jonathan Edwards.\n\nThe idea is a happy one, and Miss Hanscom carries it through with great\ntact and deftness.\n\nTHE MACMILLAN COMPANY\n\nPublishers 64-66 Fifth Avenue New York\n\n\n\n\nThe Tree of Heaven\n\nBy MAY SINCLAIR\n\n_Cloth, $1.60_\n\nA singularly penetrating story of modern life, written in the author's\nvery best manner. The scheme, the root motive of the book, may be said\nto be a vindication of the present generation--the generation that was\ncondemned as neurotic and decadent by common consent a little more than\nthree years ago, but is now enduring the ordeal of the war with great\nsingleness of heart. This theme, in Miss Sinclair's hands, assumes big\nproportions and gives her at the same time ample opportunity for\ncharacter analysis, in which art she is equalled by few contemporary\nwriters.\n\nTHE MACMILLAN COMPANY\n\nPublishers 64-66 Fifth Avenue New York\n\n\n\n\nFairhope: The Annals of a Country Church\n\nBy EDGAR DEWITT JONES\n\n_Cloth, 12mo., $1.25_\n\nFairhope meeting-house is in the northermost country of Kentucky, in the\nmidst of a populous farming community. In this book Mr. Jones, a\nlife-long member of the community, tells the story of Fairhope\nmeeting-house. The book is a remarkably sympathetic and appealing\naccount of a phase of American rural life at a time when religion was\nalways the uppermost topic in people's minds.\n\n\"Simple narratives of our people, our preachers, and the lights and\nshadows of our rural religious life\"--is the author's modest description\nof his work. But this gives no hint of the book's peculiar charm. Those\nwho love birds and stretches of green meadow, glimpses of lordly and\nhigh hills, the soil and the sincere life lived on it, will find here a\ngenuine delight.\n\nAbove all is the interest in the preachers themselves. \"There were\ngiants in those days, and for the most part our ministers were good and\nnoble men. Of their goodness and sincerity these annals bear witness!\"\n\nTHE MACMILLAN COMPANY\n\nPublishers 64-66 Fifth Avenue New York\n\n\n\n\nChristine\n\nBy ALICE CHOLMONDELEY\n\n_Cloth, 12mo., $1.25_\n\n\"A book which is true in essentials--so real that one is tempted to\ndoubt whether it is fiction at all--doubly welcome and doubly\nimportant.... It would be difficult indeed to find a book in which the\nstate of mind of the German people is pictured so cleverly, with so much\nunderstanding and convincing detail.... Intelligent, generous,\nsweet-natured, broadminded, quick to see and to appreciate all that is\nbeautiful either in nature or in art, rejoicing humbly over her own\ngreat gift, endowed with a keen sense of humour, Christine's is a\nthoroughly wholesome and lovable character. But charming as Christine's\npersonality and her literary style both are, the main value of the book\nlies in its admirably lucid analysis of the German mind.\"--_New York\nTimes._\n\n\"Absolutely different from preceding books of the war. Its very freedom\nand girlishness of expression, its very simplicity and open-heartedness,\nprove the truth of its pictures.\"--_New York World._\n\n\"A luminous story of a sensitive and generous nature, the spontaneous\nexpression of one spirited, affectionate, ardently ambitious, and\nblessed with a sense of humour.\"--_Boston Herald._\n\n\"The next time some sentimental old lady of either sex, who 'can't see\nwhy we have to send our boys abroad,' comes into your vision, and you\nknow they are too unintelligent (they usually are) to understand a\nserious essay, try to trap them into reading 'Christine.' If you succeed\nwe know it will do them good.\"--_Town and Country._\n\nTHE MACMILLAN COMPANY\n\nPublishers 64-66 Fifth Avenue New York","title":"The Record of a Quaker Conscience, Cyrus Pringle's Diary: With an Introduction by Rufus M. Jones","tradition":"scripture-revelation","translated_text":null,"word_count":14231}